Monday, April 1, 2013

Uncle Rainy

Cousin told me the doctor said it was her father's last day. He is in hospice, with cancer everywhere. Just like my aunt, his wife, who passed fifteen years ago.

I call him Uncle Rainy because he is the one I called for support during my divorce in medical school. He was a C4 quadriplegic from a motorcycle accident. He had a lot of time on his hands. He was an engineer, a smart man, and had a very open heart.

Those calls were a lifeline for me. I depended on his being there to hold my hand when tidal waves of grief hit. It wasn't so much the lack of my ex, for it was by choice for my safety that I left him. Yes, this type of relationship harm happens in all walks of life, including the highly-educated engineer couple of sweethearts through engineering school! Rather, it was for my situation, for the dream of 'happily ever after' that died, and for how I was to go about the rest of my life after all this? How was I to have another chance to have kids? But Uncle's highly technical training, much like my own, helped him find words that would answer my questions, and I had many, about what was going on with my heart and how my dreams shattered...right when everyone else in medical school was starting to 'pair up'. The contrast between my life and theirs was extraordinarily painful.

I have not been to see Uncle Rainy for over five years. I took my son once to meet him. We brought cake for Uncle Rainy's birthday. It was a beautiful day.

Once I lost my job, and started to work full-time, my chance for little pleasantries was nonexistent. The OR is an odd place: you are there for long hours, and it is frowned upon if you talk to your family on the phone during a case. It is frowned upon if you slow down the turnover between cases by talking to your family on the phone. You can't win. There is no way to keep up the social support unless you have friends who are good at texts, and you keep it very quick and very to-the-point.

I pondered changing our plans--the hotel is paid and check-in time was not far away and we were heading out on the road. Spirit said not to go to the bedside. No one was there when Dad died. It is a family thing only. But I sent the most loving and caring message I could write back to Cousin, who was having a rough time.

As I closed the trunk, or, back of the station wagon, I paused. I asked Blessed Mother to be with him, and to help him find his way. She said yes she would help him.

On the road, maybe about twenty minutes away, as we passed by his freeway exits, I 'felt' his presence.

He was flanked on one side by Blessed Mother and the other by a Guardian Angel. He wanted to say thank you for the help with Blessed Mother in the Transition. He also said who he saw on Spirit side that helped him--most of our relatives, including Dad, but surprisingly not his wife Auntie Ann! He said the adjustment was easy. He was kind of looking forward to it. And he was super happy to be using his legs and getting used to being able to work his arms and legs together again. He burned off a lot of karma, he confided, and he was not that upset about everything now that it was said and done.

I expressed my sadness at not being able to visit. He said he 'saw everything once he passed about my schedule and that which he had not understood in life he completely understood in death, and that is was OKAY not to have gone to visit him.' He had no concept of how my every day life is. Or of the spiritual work I do on behalf of others.

I relaxed and thought that was awesome.

And I made a healing group just for the family and everyone affected by his passing and for him, too, personally, and I sent distance Reiki from the car (with my mind. I can do that. We Southern California Drivers are able to ANYTHING from behind the wheel of a car! )


Reiki Doc

P.S. I just checked for more news from my cousins. No such thing yet. But he is in Transition, and able to leave his body for a short time until it is complete.